


How to Live Forever

by Labyrinth_Layabouts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apocalypse, Armageddon, Descriptions of World Destruction, Gen, Implied character death offscreen, Light Angst, Vessel!Sam, Vessel!dean, immortal!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Labyrinth_Layabouts/pseuds/Labyrinth_Layabouts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dean Winchester was saved. And in his true vessel, Micheal would save the world. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Live Forever

 

 

 

He can feel the grace coursing through his veins. He had heard Cas describe it a thousand times, but the thrall of the power beneath his skin is more than he could ever have understood.

He had said yes. To Micheal. In a desperate attempt to not lose everything- everyone he loved. Jo was gone. Ellen was dead. And his only brother was slipping away beneath the weight of a fallen angel.

Dean didn’t have any more choices.

Cas told him this was good. With his eyes sliding just too far to the side for it to be the truth, Cas repeated what the other angel’s told him was a good idea.

Dean Winchester was saved. And in his true vessel, Micheal would save the world. 

The roar of voices was deafening in his ear. All the angels, all at once, and all the time. It never shut off and Dean missed feeling alone in his own head. But this was forever. Or- at least until Micheal burned him out of his own body. 

They were at war, and Dean was just another casualty of it.

 

* * *

 

 Dean sits a passenger in his own body. Listening as the angels discuss their battle tactics.

“Sam Winchester must fall.” The voices said. “He is corrupt. He is lost. Nothing holy is left to save.”

Lucifer released the croatoan onto the earth. Watched as it overtook person by person, town by town. And over the frantic screams of those desperately fleeing for their lives, Dean has given up trying to see the good in saving this crumbling world. 

“We must start over.” Raphael had said. “Start the world anew and let the rapture burn away the sin that has corrupt it.”

Zachariah lit fires under buildings. Boiled the seas and cracked open mountains to spew volcanic ash into the air. The smoke choked out those still clinging to life inside the cities. 

This was good, the angels said. This was holy. 

 

* * *

 

“You can’t save everyone, my friend.” Cas’ whisper is harsh on Dean’s ears. Sitting across from him in a decrepit motel room missing its roof, Dean hangs his pounding head in his hands. It’s the first day in a millennium that Dean’s been alone in his body. Or, mostly alone. He can still feel Micheal’s grace tracing up his spine like a possessive hand clinging onto that which it knows it owns. And he can still hear the voices, echoing back the praises for their commanders who destroyed the world with divine purpose. 

“I didn’t want to save everyone.” His voice is rough. Like he hasn’t used it enough for it to remember what his words should sound like. Micheal always speaks with purpose. Dean always speaks as if broken. 

“I just though there’d be someone left to save.” He’s tired. And Cas’ cold eyes flit over him in practiced hesitation. They aren’t who they used to be. Cas sits, sunken into the ratty couch that only exists still because Dean needed something to hold onto. It’s an illusion of faith that brought it back.

“You wished to save him, your brother.” They don’t say his name. Haven’t since Micheal raised his mighty sword and slew Lucifer to the pits of Hell, riding Dean’s brother all the way down. The name feels cursed on Dean’s tongue. As if by saying it, it’s somehow a sin on an angel’s breath.

“He-” He wills the tears away, digs his fingers deeper into his scalp. “I was supposed to save him.”

Cas looks up, his absent expression so much like the drugged out man Dean was hoping to prevent. Trading out pills for callous feels like a harsh compromise. 

“You did. His soul is free of the torment of the fallen sin. You saved him, Dean, from a fate worse than death.”

Dean huffs a laugh, as if death is the punchline of this cosmic joke.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” The tilt of Cas’ head hurts to see. It makes him look innocent. And no solider who’s slain a million babes deserves to look that way.

“It is what God commanded. What the prophet’s wrote. It was always meant to be, Dean.” He looks down at his folded hands. “This was always meant to be.”

When this first started, Dean would have fought that. That idea that destruction is inevitable. That the chaos of a world burning was the only way any of this could end. He would have yelled, screamed at Cas. Told him till he was blue in the face that we had to fight this. We had to stop this. His knuckles would have been bloody over the fight, but now? Now he closes his eyes. Because he can feel the heat of Micheal’s halo rising about his head. Can hear the call of another holy war he’s meant to fight in. 

Dean let’s his hands fall, face tipping back and light streaming in. Micheal fills his void. Fills his holes and fixes the broken pieces of his soul. Because this body has a war to win.

Once, now, and forever. 


End file.
